


Did We Win?

by nukacherries



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes-centric, Coma, Genius Shuri (Marvel), M/M, No Snap, One Shot, One of My Favorites, POV Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Feels, Thanos (Marvel) Dies, Time Skips, Wakanda, first fic for this ship, written before Infinity War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 03:53:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nukacherries/pseuds/nukacherries
Summary: It's one week after the battle with Thanos. Bucky's bruises were almost done fading. The fragile planet known as Earth was starting to pull itself together. Funerals were held. The fallen were buried. Thanos was burned to ashes.And Steve still hasn't woken up.(originally posted on my old account, importing them into this one)





	Did We Win?

**Author's Note:**

> Written before Infinity War snapped my soul into ashes. Also a repost from my old account. 
> 
> I don't own the Avengers. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It's one week after the battle with Thanos.

Bucky's bruises were almost done fading. The fragile planet known as Earth was starting to pull itself together. Funerals were held. The fallen were buried. Thanos was burned to ashes.

And Steve still hasn't woken up.

It's been one week so far and Bucky felt like it was longer. Dare he say, almost infinite.

Contrary to popular belief, it didn't take Steve Rogers a few hours to heal from whatever wound he had to deal with this time. Like anyone else, he still felt the effects of strenuous activity, soreness, exhaustion, bruises and cuts. Even with the serum, strained muscles were always a bitch to deal with.

But it wasn't the end of the world when he got hurt. It would sting a little bit, but he would heal. With time, he would heal.

Bucky would know. A walk in the park with Steve in terms of injuries was a route that he was already familiar too.

The little shit in Brooklyn that never backed down from a fight. Except that now, the results of those fights were things that would normally kill a person: like falling from a helicarrier or getting blasted in the gut by Tony Stark.

It had been a weird six years since Bucky escaped from HYDRA after the battle over the Potomac in Washington. Spending two years on the run not knowing what the fuck he was, just focusing on the one constant in his repressed, blurred, out of focus memories.

Steve.

Steve Rogers. Stevie. Captain America. Brooklyn. Snow. Austria. Him dropping the shield for him for the first time on the helicarrier. Museum exhibit.

Bucky found a small apartment in Romania, and spent time writing everything down in his notebooks. Piecing himself together. Trying to connect the dots between fragmented memories that were soon becoming full memories, trying overcome the past seventy years of torture and assassinations ordered by HYDRA on his own.

He became lucid enough to know that he was Bucky. Not James. Not Sergeant Barnes. Not the Winter Soldier. But Bucky.

He couldn't go back to Brooklyn and hide out, considering that the US still considered him a fugitive. He didn't trust being inside the US, not when he saw how deep the HYDRA roots were entrenched in all different levels of government.

When Stark went to the bunker to talk peace, it was promising.

Only for some fucker named Zemo to throw it into disarray.

And a civil war (at least that was what the media dubbed it, when it was more of a more of a major falling out) breaking out between the Avengers. And then the new king of Wakanda, T'Challa, offering asylum and a chance to recover. To start over with a clean slate. Give that a year and a half to find the root of the conditioning and a starting point.

Bucky owed all of them an unpayable debt.

The Avengers grew as an army with more powered people fighting on their side.

Fighting alongside Tony Stark was more than….awkward. That was the only phrase that could possibly fit the entirely too unique situation Bucky was in. By no means was it now water under a bridge; it was still tense and uncomfortable than ever. and Bucky still felt guilt, but the conflict had been pushed to the side in order to face the biggest foe of all.

He knew that Steve and Tony had talked. Had reached a compromise, temporal at least.

So naturally, getting blasted with an infinity stone after bitch slapping Thanos the Mad Titan with Thor's hammer, Steve was unconscious.

Watching over him in his sleep was slightly easier on the mind than it was to be asleep in another room, with too much space in their shared bed and tossing and turning under the covers.

Dr. Cho's machine did a goddamn miracle in repairing the damaged skin on Steve's shoulder. It left a significant scar that stretched from his shoulder to underneath his chin, but that was the least of their problems. So long as Steve lived. The machine helped repair the nerves considerably faster and along the serum, it worked.

The downside was that none of the Avengers had an idea of how long Steve would be out of action.

Mostly because well, this really hasn't before. Broken bones? Give him a few days. Deep bruises? A few hours. But getting blasted with an Infinity Stone? Getting blasted with the Gauntlet of Infinity Stones that harnesses all power of not one, not two, not three, but  _five_ stones, who the fuck knew? It could take weeks, if not  _months._ For a few moments, Steve died and he then came back to life, thanks to Wanda's magic.

 _God_.

Bucky didn't see any of this shit coming.

To quell his and Sam's nerves, Peter Quill said that after he had to deal with the blast from an infinity stone, he walked away pretty fine. "Banged up, sore as hell, but still alright." He reassured both of them, but it didn't do much but make them worry even more. But then again, he's half ancient race of alien, so he had a little bit of leverage than Steve and his serum.

The moment replaying in Bucky's head. Thor's hammer had landed not too far from Steve and without a pause in thought, Bucky witnessed as his lover ran for the hammer, grabbed it and jumped off the ledge to promptly  _slap_ the Titan with it.

Bucky screamed Steve's name, terrified and for a moment, he felt his world stop spinning as Steve got hit with a blast of the infinity gauntlet on his shoulder.

He heard Sam and the rest of the Avengers' screams of panic on the communication link all at once, Wanda forming a force field around Steve that allowed him to avoid the impact on the ground.

Bucky remembered running at full speed, sniper aimed and shooting, only for the bullets being crushed to dust the moment they left the barrel.

Bucky had never felt so much wrath and bloodthirst against someone-not since he was being used by HYDRA, that is.

And for the second time in the past few years, Bucky hoisted Steve over his arms and into the Quinjet. It wasn't a river he pulled him out of, but a battlefield.

Instead, he was pulling an unconscious Steve into his arms and away from the battlefield, with the additional boost of Wanda's powers making him move faster.

Bucky fired a few shots at Thanos' eyes that didn't land on their target: as soon as the bullets left the barrel, Wanda stopped them in midair and promptly crushed them into dust.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Bucky shouted over the noise of battle.

"Saving your life!" Wanda shouted back. "Stay with Steve! Keep him safe!"

He ran next to Steve's body and nelt down and with his flesh arm, held two fingers to the side of his neck.

He felt no pulse.

Bucky felt his world stop.

"I can't feel his pulse," he said into the communication link.

"What?!" Sam exclaimed.

"I-I can't feel his pulse," Bucky felt for both of Steve's wrists and chest.

"Move!" Wanda dropped from the air and shoved Bucky aside. She concentrated everything she could and in a blast of shimmery red light, shocked Steve back to life. Got his heart to start beating again.

Then he fell unconscious once his head hit the ground.

"I'll boost them!" Pietro sped up to where Bucky and Steve were and ran to the Quinjet at full speed.

Bucky loaded Steve into the machine and pressed the necessary buttons at Dr. Cho's instruction while she connected Steve to an IV.

Steve's shoulder and suit were done for, smoke still rising from the industrial spandex. Bucky wasn't sure what degree burn Steve had on his shoulder.

Wakandan technology alongside Dr. Cho's machine alongside the serum worked to keep Steve alive. Worked to keep him asleep while his arm nerves reconstructed.

But it did nothing for the fear pumping through Bucky's veins instead of oxygen. The victory of winning the battle was absent on him, not when his world, his lover, was unconscious.

Pietro had a bit more of an attachment to Steve, like a puppy. Bucky figured that it was due to Steve prying him out of the cyro pod that Hydra kept him in, which was a thing that happened when Bucky was under the ice. He dropped by often, keeping Bucky company. He'd tell him stories about how he was the fastest runner in his Sokovian high school track team. Stories of the homeland he no longer had.

"The stories may sound pointless now, but...but I am able to tell them now. Because of Steve. I owe him my life," Pietro said. "My loyalty is to my sister and to him."

Bucky spent whatever spare time he could with Steve. Sam was there too, as was T'Challa. And the rest of the Avengers. It got cramped sometimes, so they set up a shift system.

Tony dealt with the political fallout. Bucky stayed away from him out of respect.

T'Challa protected Bucky's name when the UN asked questions.

"Bucky Barnes is a prisoner of war and was brainwashed and tortured by HYDRA for nearly seventy years. He was not responsible for the attack in Vienna from four years ago. He is stable, and a warrior that fought along our side against the Mad Titan Thanos."

God, Bucky owed him and Shuri and the Wakandan doctors everything.

Bucky was ready to spend the evening at Steve's side again when Wanda stepped in and said that it was her turn.

"You're done, Bucky."

"But it's my turn," he protested.

"I know what the doctors said," Wanda sat down next to Steve, crotchet needles in one hand and a bag of yarn in the other. "And you need a stable routine."

"Peering inside my head again?" Bucky asked flatly. He wouldn't be surprised if she did.

"No," she said simply. "It was a wild guess. And I was right." She smiled at Bucky. "So go get some dinner," she commanded in an all too sweet voice. Not demanded:  _commanded._ "And get out my sight."

Bucky sighed, but nodded anyways. "Fine."

The wrath of Wanda Maximoff without her powers was an event that was best to be avoided.

He heard after the battle that Wanda assisted in the delivery the final blow of the fight, protecting Okoye as she drove the pure Wakandan vibranium spear into Thanos's cranium. Bucky could hear her scream of victory from the Quinjet.

_"The Mad Titan is dead! Wakanda forever!"_

Bucky stopped at the doorway, remembering what he was going to say to Wanda.

"I still cannot believe you fought in a war while being two weeks pregnant," he said.

Wanda grinned, patting her flat stomach. "What do you think kept me going?" she asked. It was why she brought the crotchet needles: to knit hats for her future child. "I think they're going to be twins."

Or children.

"Steve is gonna give you an earful."

"He will not, considering I was the one that revived him."

"You thought this all through, haven't you?"

Wanda smiled.

"I don't know how Vision is the father," Bucky said off-handedly. "Nor do I want to know!"

As he left the room, Wanda simply just laughed.

* * *

It's two weeks before the battle.

Steve's hair was longer and he sported a beard.

The air was calm, and they were both sitting under the entrance of the panther cave. They had spent most of the day preparing the army for a possible attack from the Children of Thanos. There was no telling if they were going to strike Wakanda or if the mad titan himself was going to show. Rumors flew about the small nation, so preparations for the preparations were held.

Steve had both his phone and the burner phone right next to him, both with the sound on. Nothing has come from it, but Bucky felt that the burner phone was the doosmday clock, ready to strike.

"If...If a war comes," Bucky started. "What is going to be your codename?"

"I know it will be hard for them to shake off calling me Cap, so that's forgiven, but I just...I don't know what I am anymore. I just know I'm not Captain America."

Bucky remembered, in the haze of losing blood and neural shock damage to his arm being blasted off from Stark's blaster, the distinct sound that came from Steve dropping the metal shield onto the cement Siberian war bunker. How Tony demanded that the shield didn't belong to him. That he didn't deserve it.

So Steve dropped it.

"I know I'm just Steve. I don't feel like Captain America anymore. I dropped the mantle when I dropped the shield all those years ago."

_Four years ago._

"Look at us, we're not even in America," Steve said. "Not that I'm complaining. Wakanda…" he sighed. "It feels good. I love it here."

"If war does come, I know my codename is going to be the same. The Winter Soldier or Bucky Barnes."

"I know who I am," Steve said. "I'm Steve, yeah. I'm from Brooklyn. I'm a fighter, always have. But now...I'm a wanderer. No longer sporting the colors of a country that I used to fight for. Now I just...I fight for all."

_Wanderer._

The word stuck in Bucky's head for a few moments, trying to find the right phrasing. Until he finally did.

"Nomad."

"What?" Steve asked.

"You're a nomad," Bucky turned to face Steve. "A wanderer without a nation, but you're still who you are at the core. You're Nomad. That's your new codename. Sure, they might still call you Cap, but your new codename can be Nomad."

"Nomad," Steve repeated. "Nomad. Yeah," he smiled and turned to face Bucky. "I like it."

"So the Winter Soldier and Nomad," Bucky concluded. "I like the sound of it. Side by side, like we always have."

"Like we always will."

Bucky simply smiled and leaned his head on top of Steve's shoulder, his heart stirring at feeling Steve pull him closer. And in silence, with peace in the air and Steve's hand underneath his, Bucky watched the pink and violet sunset settle across the Wakandan horizon. And they both waited, for the war to come.

* * *

Bucky stirred from the memory in his sleep, glancing at the alarm clock next to the bed. 3:40 AM.

He glanced at the empty spot next to him, where Steve should be.

Two weeks after the battle.

After the war.

The war that Bucky felt had lasted forever, but in reality was only a few days. Three days. The war that took so many lives across multiple planets of names that Bucky couldn't understand the language of. The war that gave Bucky the grim reminder that there would never be true peace on Earth and that the galaxy is full of so many powers he never thought would be possible. That the Earth he lived in was a fragile, delicate world and practically nothing.

Snapshots of the final battle against Thanos raced throughout his head, echoes of the battlefield not matching up to the pictures. There was the chatter of communication links and battle cries from the Dora Milaje. The crackle of the electricity from Natasha's Widow Bites. The Children of Thanos and their army, fighting together against everything the Avengers had at their disposal. Asgardian warriors shouting the name of their homeland, Thor's booming voice raising morale in the barracks. There was the kiss of good luck from Steve, and the embrace Bucky didn't want to let go from.

The Guardians of the Galaxy lived up to their name after defeating some of the Children of Thanos. The sisters, Gamora and Nebula, fought side by side. The spirit of battle, of fighting was alive and well in Nebula's shrill, almost metallic battle shouts of vengeance and swears of blood being drained from Thanos's veins. Peter Quill fought with all he could, half Celestial genetics giving him a new advantage to fighting.

Then came the war. The carnage. The bodies and bodies of fallen warriors on the side of the Avengers, all on Wakandan soil, the sea of different colors of blood from the different alien races that came to earth to fight against Thanos alongside the Avengers.

The Mad Titan was one of the most powerful being in the universe. The other ones were killed by him.

During the battle, Bucky sniped and took down Thanos's armies alongside Steve's side. Covering his left, his right, anywhere he could.

Making eye contact with the Mad Titan himself and feeling the ice cold panic of being of the receiving end of his stare. Steve running past Bucky and picking up the hammer. Sam's shouts of fear when he saw Steve fall out the sky. Bucky's screams. Gunshots from Bucky's rifle, the bullets being crushed to dust by Wanda.

The lack of pulse against Steve's skin.

The memory still gave Bucky chills. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Steve was asleep, but alive and had there been any change, Sam would have called him down.

He knows visiting hours (for him) are over for the night and Sam is with Steve right now.

Yet the compulsive part of him just wanted-he just wanted to check. Just wanted to make sure Steve was alive. To hear that steady beep of the heart monitor.

But he knew that he'd be kicked right back into his and Steve's apartment. Because he needed the bedrest, needed the sleep. He's barely recovered and anything that would throw him off would be detrimental to his health.

Bucky sighed and sat up to change the sweated through sheets but ended up laying right back down.

So Bucky laid there in the bed, heart racing but otherwise unmoving.

He stared at the calm gray of the ceiling.

And didn't go back to sleep.

* * *

Three weeks after the battle.

Steve hasn't stirred one bit.

Buc

Bucky had his coffee in hand while the doctors told him what to expect.

"Don't lose hope," was all the doctors kept saying to Bucky. "The scans show that his systems are still repairing. The serum is doing its work."

Shuri summarized it bluntly enough; "Give us some credit, Bucky. We have fixed not just one but two broken white boys. A third one is going to be a piece of cake."

Bucky smiled at her good-nature humor.

Shuri squeezed Bucky's flesh arm and gave him reassurance. Said that everything was going to be alright.

He had full faith in the Wakanda medical team; after all, they did the impossible; Bucky recovered from seventy plus years of brainwashing and torture in one year and a half thanks to Wakandan technology.

"Patience, Bucky," T'Challa said to him in the hallway of the medical wing. "Steve will be okay."

"I hope so."Bucky nodded and took a shaky breath, trying to quell his nerves down from the reality that was Steve still not waking up.

"How have you been sleeping?" T'Challa asked.

Bucky almost let out a dry chuckle, but chose not to. "I haven't."

He only drank coffee when he could barely stand on his own two feet, when he was kept up by nightmares or memories And the king knew that.

T'Challa eyed the coffee cup in Bucky's metal hand. "I had the feeling."

Bucky nodded and took a sip from the cup.

"And how goes the medication?"

"It's helping a little bit. Doc said that it takes time though."

"Which doctor?"

"All of them."

Both of them shared a laugh at the inside joke that had started at the fact that Bucky had  _so many doctors_ when he first came out of the ice. Shuri would relay an order from the doctor, Bucky would ask who it came from and Shuri would simply say "All of them."

"I have to say…" Bucky began.

"Are you going to thank me again?" T'Challa teased, small hints of a smile present.

"Yes, actually. I'm gonna keep thanking you, for as long as I live. I will thank you and Shuri and the doctors and every citizen of Wakanda every day as necessary. I'll be one of your morale boosters. So thank you."

T'Challa laughed in good spirit, smile still present.

"You have a good soul, Bucky. Few men have that still."

"Eh, there's a few out there. One of them…" Bucky trailed off and glanced in direction of the room Steve was still asleep in. "One of them is still asleep. You know that Steve was my rock. Always has been since we were just kids in Brooklyn. I can handle myself on my own. Did that while I was in Romania. It's just-" he sighed. "I don't want to lose him again. I couldn't feel his pulse on the battlefield. I just can't shake that feeling off. I don't think I ever will."

"And how is Steve right now?" T'Challa asked.

"Asleep. Like he has been ever since we pulled him onto the Quinjet."

"And what did the doctors say?"

"To give him time."

"So that's what you'll give him. Time.  _Patience_. He waited for you a long time while you were on the ice last time. Do the same for him," T'Challa said. "Just stay busy."

Bucky remembered what Steve said to him when he came out of the ice, when he embraced him and didn't let go for a good while.

_"I've waited a long time for you. And I'll wait, as long as necessary."_

The moment felt too perfect for Steve to have woken up and the doctors and nurses to have all rushed in there to check on him.

But the heart monitor kept beeping steadily as Steve continued sleeping.

And no moment came.

* * *

Four weeks after the battle.

The Infinity War didn't feel all that infinite, if Bucky had to be honest. Well, it was. The actual war had been long and stretched over millennia and it only culminated on Earth, the last place left for Thanos and his army to conquer. The final battle lasted three days and two nights, ending on a Wakandan sunset, with Okoye delivering the final blow.

Before that, it had been minor skirmishes with the Children of Thanos around the world. Other groups of super powered beings rose up and fought when the war came to them. The Sokovia Accords were thrown out the window under the guise of it being "an international emergency."

Bucky snorted when he read that headline. Only when convenient do you need powered people.

_Nice one, governments. Nice one._

The world is still cleaning up. Bucky wished he could go out there and help with that process, but the world still saw him as a fugitive. He came to the bitter realization that while half the would could see him as a hero, the rest would still see him as an agent of HYDRA, something he no longer was.

His therapist said it wasn't a good idea, due to how backlash like that would only further destabilize what stability they had worked so hard on keeping.

Bucky tries to follow T'Challa's advice, he really does. He tries to keep hope. To keep his spirits alive.

He helps with the clean up efforts in Wakanda, metal vibranium arm giving him a higher advantage than before.

Even on nights that it isn't his turn, he still makes sure to pass by Steve's room to give him a kiss on the forehead and say goodnight. Their own ritual that they've shared ever since they started their new life together in Wakanda. A good night forehead kiss.

Despite the heart monitor beeping steadily, Bucky let himself gently touch the pulse point of Steve's neck and sighed in relief when he heard the slow, steady beats of Steve's heart.

He held the side of Steve's face.

"Wake up, punk," he said softly. "We miss you."

_Please wake up._

* * *

Five weeks after the battle.

After a busy day of therapy, sparring with recruits and overall just keeping busy, Bucky was tired.

Steve's beard had grown longer, as had his hair. It was a good look on him.

He was still asleep.

Bucky showered and cleaned up. His head felt like a tight band was being pulled tighter and tighter around his forehead. He knew it was from lack of sleep, the fact that the limited amount of it that he had was spent. His metal hand clasped Steve's hand, the only one that wasn't attached to an IV. It had been holding his for a good long while.

Wait.

Bucky darted his head to face Steve so fast that it left him dizzy, and found his lover awake and lucid.

"Hey," Steve greeted with a weak smile. He looked even more tired now that he was awake.

Bucky didn't hide the long sigh of relief that escaped. Or the irritation that followed.

"It took you long enough."

Steve sighed, like he was expecting that response.

"Buck."

"Don't start," Bucky said sternly. "Let me-let me say my piece. Don't come at me with the greater good bullshit, okay? No matter what your reckless impulsive ass is saying, being  _alive_ is the greatest good you're ever gonna get," he felt the waves of frustration continue rolling in, all the pent up worrying for the past five weeks was finally letting loose. "Literally everyone else was in that battle, even a magician, Stephen Strange-Even fucking Stark was in the battle too! We had a Wakandan army! A talking raccoon and teenage tree were there too! You need to quit being so goddamn selfless, especially if it means getting hit with a bunch of goddamn  _infinity stones_ -you know, those things that have destroyed planets!"

"Bucky-" Steve attempted to talk again, but Bucky cut him off.

"I am NOT finished!"

Steve sighed and opted for letting Bucky continue.

"Okay, to say it more accurately, the blast  _grazed_ you. Had it actually gone through you, it would have cut off your arm. We would have been matching," Bucky still remembered the look on the doctor's face when she saw the damage and said the words 'had it been too late, Nomad and you would be matching arms.' "Yes, you slapping Thanos with Mjolnir gave us the winning advantage. But Steve. Steve. Steve! What the fuck?!"

"I have a question."

"What, in the ever loving  _fuck_ is it, Steven Grant Rogers?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms

"Did we win?"

"Do you see the world in ashes around me, Steven?" Bucky asked. "Do you see the world gone to hell?"

"No."

"Of course we won, you reckless punk! Thanks to your act of bullshit selflessness that was completely avoidable yet you still fucking went for it!"

"Okay, you have to be more specific on that," Steve sat up in the bed. Seeing Bucky's glare, Steve asked "What? I do a lot of reckless things."

Bucky rolled his eyes and gently pushed Steve to lay back down on the bed.

"First off, doctor's order were for plenty of bedrest. Awake or asleep."

"Which doctor said that?" Steve asked, almost protesting but ultimately laying back down on the bed.

"All of them," Bucky said dryly. "Even your eye doctor said it."

"I don't have an eye doctor."

"Had that blast hit your face, you woulda needed one."

"Fine," Steve grumbled but ultimately, laid down. He pulled the sheet closer to himself. "What's the second thing?" he asked.

"Secondly, you finally admit it."

"Admit what? That I do a lot of reckless things?"

"Yes."

"Well, I never denied it."

"You made excuses for it," Bucky said stubbornly. "Which damn well counts for something. How can you be so oblivious? You grabbed Thor's hammer and hit Thanos!"

"Oh," Steve said blankly. He stayed quiet for a few moments before the realization of what Bucky meant hit him. "Oh right!"

"Please don't give me another heart attack," Bucky sighed. "Please, for the love of everything that exists, because by God I have no goddamn idea what's gonna hit us next time, don't scare any of us like that ever again. There may be so many Avengers now, but there's only one of you. And I don't think I can afford to lose you  _again_."

"What do you mean again?" Steve asked.

Oh boy.

There really wasn't an easy way to say it.

"Steve…You died on the battlefield."

Silence.

" _What?"_

"When Thanos hit you, you died. Wanda managed to shock you back to life and Stark had the machine to keep you alive while we took a portal to the medical wing. And you've been on this bed for nearly five weeks in a coma."

Even more silence.

"I...I thought I just passed out," Steve said softly.

"No, Steve. You  _died_."

"Oh my god."

"Not even the doctors here were sure you'd wake up," Bucky sat down on the small space on the bed.

"I wasn't thinking at the time."

"I lifted Thor's hammer."

"You gotta admit, that was pretty cool."

"You're over a hundred years old-"

"So are you, pal."

Steve smiled and squeezed Bucky's hand, pulling it to him to press a few chaste kisses against it.

"You are too good for me."

"You're a fool. The biggest fool there is," Bucky leaned down to press a gentle kiss against Steve's forehead. "But then again, I'm dating the biggest fool too."

"Fuck, who would have thought we would have ended up in a place like this?" Bucky asked. "Defeating a Titan. I didn't even know a Titan existed."

"But I lifted Thor's hammer."

"Yes, I know. I was there," Bucky said dryly. "We all were. You scared the fuck out of all of us."

"I'll never leave my best guy behind," Steve smiled gently and kissed the knuckles of Bucky's metal hand. "I promise. It won't happen again."

The white lie came out easily from Steve. But Bucky didn't have one hundred years of age on this much too fragile earth to know that it was complete bullshit.

"Steve, we both know that knowing your reckless ass that it will probably happen again," Bucky deadpanned.

"Yeah, it probably will."

* * *

It's five weeks and a half weeks after the battle.

Bucky's bed isn't empty anymore.

Steve rests next to him, still on strict orders of bedrest. He goes to daily check ups to see if his arm is fully functional and if there weren't any side effects from the blast from the gauntlet.

On the other side sat Bucky, reading up on Wakandan history with a technical device that was translating the words into English. As much as he loved T'Challa and the sound of his voice telling him the stories of Wakanda and the rich history behind it, T'Challa was a king and a diplomat and he  _did_  have kingly and diplomatic matters to attend do. Now that Wakanda was no longer closing off it's borders and no longer isolating itself, things were greatly changing for the African country.

The soft yellow light of the two lamps were both turned on. Bucky couldn't stand overhead lights anymore. It would give him a headache, plus it reminded him too much of HYDRA's conditioning.

"Buck," Steve said softly.

"Yeah?" Bucky paused his reading in the middle of a paragraph.

"You got bags under your eyes."

"I'm well aware."

"Have you been sleeping well?"

Bucky looked down to his book and shut it. "It hasn't exactly been the best couple of weeks," was all he said.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?" Bucky asked, before remembering his therapist's advice. Talking about it did help. He winced and let out a sigh. "Okay, let me retract that."

"Alright."

"I...I can't shake that feeling," Bucky started. "Off not feeling your pulse. You slipped away from me, from being alive, so fast. I couldn't find your pulse. I still can't shake it."

Steve reached out to hold Bucky's metal hand against his pulse point. And Bucky felt it. One steady, healthy thump after the other.

"I'm right here," Steve continued holding Bucky's hand against his neck. "And I'm sorry that I scared you. I really am. I promise I'll be more careful."

Bucky put the book down on the bed and carefully moved over to pull Steve into a kiss. A kiss that said everything he wanted to say out loud.

But he still said it anyways.

"I love you," he murmured, relishing in the warmth, in the heartbeat, in Steve's heartbeat. A constant thump that proved he was alive and well.

"I love you too."

* * *

It's six weeks after the battle.

Steve is recovering.

Bucky is finally sleeping.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome!


End file.
